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4 m9 


A MEMORIAL 


Miss MARTHA A. PIPER. 


COMPILED AT THE REQUEST OF HER MOTHER, 


| 
{ 


BY 


Rev. MOSES T. RUNNELS, 


Pastor of the Congregational Church in Sanbornton, N. H. 


BOSTON: 
ALFRED MUDGE & SON, PRINTERS, 34 SCHOOL STREET. 


187 5. 








CON PENTS. 


. ' : PAGE 
EERE RO sa ee lee he ie aes ee 8 fete ete 5 
Pater: 

SKETCH OF MISS PIPER’S LIFE, CHIEFLY FROM HER WRITINGS. 
Oieeree 1. — fue Cuirpuoon’s: Home...) .0. 6 ee ee eT 
RM ee EC CHANGE: (00 6 eg ete de Mee ew LO 
Rete HE REMOVAL 6 kk we ee ww TD 
Meee ete PHP NEW HOME 20k ee ke he wt o> TS 
eee ree ole SHADOW OF DEATH .. «-. 20.0. 2 ee. 8 
CHAPTER 6.— ITEMS OF RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE ..... . « 20 
eee i VAVORITHBPASTOR 22a. aye ey ee 8B 
CHAPTER *8.— A NEw SORROW— REMINISCENCES. . . . . . . 27-5 
Beer Pie CLOSING SCENE 2... ck ee ew ie 30 

FARE ely 
SELECTIONS IN PROSE AND VERSE, 
PU 1 ESSONS fF ig he ee we BS 
eee ere GTENOS Fone la Ree ele eae 39 
prmeettoN 9. PERSONAL EXPERIENCE. 20.0 ek ee ee 
SECTION 4.— DESIRES AND EFFORTS TO DO GOOD ....... SI 
Beerionys,— NATURE -—— DIVFERENT SEASONS . . 10. 2. s 6 54 
ere rth NATION (60) 006 eek oe es wie ww wn OF 


Supe c= WEISCELLANEOUS) 0 ee a ew we we 63 


Poe Cer ORY : 


THE compiler of this Memoir has labored under the evident 
, disadvantage of having enjoyed neither an early nor a long-continued 
acquaintance with its subject; mor yet has he been permitted to 
have extended interviews with any of her SOL NCS or former intimate 
associates, since her death. 

During the brief year of her sojourn in his parish he had indeed ~ 
learned to love and esteem her and her parents very highly, and 
numerous tokens of reciprocated affection have since been received 
by him from her bereaved and now widowed mother, as it were from 
the borders of the spirit-land. 

When, therefore, her well-filled portfolio of more than five hundred 
manuscript pages (note paper) was placed in his hands a few months 
ago, with the desire that her pieces should be looked over, and that 
selections from them, if thought advisable, should be arranged for 
printing in a memorial form, he set about the task of carefully reading 
them, and noting their character and contents. From ¢hese chiefly 
his knowledge of their author has been derived. A part of them 
have been woven into a connected account of her life in Part I, and 
others still have been collected in groups, for the gratification of her 
friends, in Part II. A superiority of literary or poetic excellence is 
not claimed for these selections. Most of them are far from being 
“finished ”’ productions. But when we consider that her opportuni- 
ties for a school education were wholly cut off by her great affliction 
at the age of fourteen; that by a severe attack of scrofula-inflamma- 
tion of the knee-joint she then became, and thence continued through 
life, a confirmed invalid, never attempting to walk except by the use of 
crutches; that she suffered otherwise from ill health, having no less 
than five different fits of sickness, when her life was in imminent 
danger, and that she died at the early age of twenty-eight, — we must 
conclude from an examination of her papers that she had improved 


6 INTRODUCTORY. 


well upon her limited privileges, that by self-culture, thoughtful 
reading, and the study of nature, she had at least degun to develop 
the qualities of a good writer ; while the teachings of the Spirit and 
the grace given her for support under her afflictions had made her, 
even before the time of her happy release from earthly sufferings, an 
earnest and self-sacrificing Christian. This little book of hers is 
therefore commended, not to the cold criticism of the literary world, 
but to the sympathy of her loving Christian friends. . 

They will here find evidence that in addition to her atural love- 
liness, God’s grace made her what they £zow she was, and however 
much her powers of intellect, like her moral virtues, may have been 
stimulated by adversity, yet few will question that her literary merits — 
might have proved of no inferior order, could they, with the same 
attending grace, have been unfolded under more favoring provi- 
dences. 

SANBORNTON, Nov. 20, 1874. 


‘PARE vie 


SKEEGHES. 


FROM THE 


Life of Miss Martha Alma Piper. 


(CHIEFLY AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL.) 


Cat AY Palo RT. 
THE CHILDHOOD’S HOME.* 


Martua AtmA PIPER was born March 13, 1841, in 
Weston, Vt. Her parents were Nahum and Katharine 
Newton (Bennett) Piper. She speaks of them as moving 
to a pleasant residence in the quiet little village of Wes- 
ton, with their family of one son and four daughters, in the 
year 1843, she being thé youngest of the number. The 
ures is “situated in a valley among the Green Moun- 
tains.” “The house was a two-story white one, with a- 
small yard in front, in which a variety of flowers flourished 
every summer, and where I often used to sit when a child, 
upon the steps leading to a gate, towards twilight, busy- 
ing myself in various ways.” 

This was her home till past Praveen years of age. It 
was a Christian home. “ Here we were gathered together 
for family worship and taught to kneel in reverence while 
our father offered prayer to the Maker and Preserver of 


+ 


8 SKETCHES FROM THE LIFE OF 


all. Often did that faithful mother follow us to our room — 
as we retired for the night, and after seeing us snugly in 
bed, knelt down by our bedside, taught us how to pray, 
and raised her voice in prayer.’ “Though these in- 
structions and influences might be at the time appar- 
ently unheeded, yet we have since had reason to thank 
God for the restraints thrown around us in our childhood, 
by pious parents.” 

She seems to have been keenly alive to the please 
of her home, “where the chain of love bound all hearts 
together,’ but where the chastening rod was often ad- 
ministered by sickness, her dear mother being twice 
prostrated by fever within her remembrance. 

IIlere — as she records with humble gratitude — “ two 
of the daughters, the oldest and the youngest, at different 
periods, found hope in that Saviour who suffered and died 
to save a guilty world;” and “in this dwelling, Jan. 6, 
1851, that oldest sister was united in marriage to a 
worthy gentleman from L., Mass.” “Our family, to- 
gether with other friends and relatives, was gathered in 
the little parlor to witness the ceremony. Our hearts 
grew sad for a while, as soon we were to be deprived 
of our sister's society, for the most part. The clergy- 
man performed his office with due precision and grace, 
after which the guests saluted the newly-married pair, — 
and remained for a while to partake of refreshments, 
soon to take their final leave. /izve of those that day 
assembled have already (Jan. 15, 1859) departed this 
life, and we shall meet them no more on earth.” 

During this period of childhood and early youth her 
spirits seemed always sparkling and buoyant. She enjoyed. 


MISS MARTHA ALMA PIPER. 9 


her school days in the two-story brick school-house at the 
upper end of the village, in rather too close proximity to 
one of the streams that joins the main river midway 
down the village. Once, in the event of the breaking 
away of a mill-dam, no little excitement and anxiety were 
occasioned for the children, imprisoned in their school- 
room for a while by the freshet; but all were finally led 
by careful hands over the seething current and landed 
safely at their homes. The “berrying excursions” from 
this school-house, when the teacher had been persuaded to 
let their spelling-lessons come a little earlier, and the chil- 
dren would wander over the hills and pastures till sun- 
down; and the winter pleasures in attending singing- 
schools, lyceums, etc., in large double sleighs, are all 
vividly described on scraps of paper in her portfolio. The 
varying ideas and opinions of her different teachers are 
also noticed, — some having evening “writing schools,” 
some “arithmetic schools,” in which the larger pupils 
would review the lessons they had passed over, and others 
still “reading and spelling schools,” spending the first 
part of the evening in reading in concert, and the last 
part in “spelling down.” The corn-parching and molasses- 
candy-making seasons are pleasantly alluded to: “ Jolly 
times, as we thought then!” In all these combined priv- 
ileges and sports of a New England community she seems 
to have entered with a peculiar zest. In her own words, — 
“The buoyant step of youth 
Treads gayly o’er the lea; 


Hours replete with childish joy, 
Which soon must pass away.” 


IO SKETCHES FROM 7HE LIFE OF 


CH Ast Eo Rae 
THE CHANGE. 


Tue spring of 1855 brought a sad change upon Marthas. 
‘worldly prospects, though a hopeful one in spiritual things. 
By a singular coincidence she was called on her fourteenth | 
birthday, March 13th, to attend the funeral of an estima- 
ble young lady in the village, her pastor's daughter, who. 
had also been her Sabbath-school teacher. _ 

Five years later she writes, “I recollect having been 
somewhat affected by the occurrence, gloomily reflecting 
upon the fact of its being on my birthday, as if to impress 
myself with the idea that it mzght be the foreshadowing 
of evil, or of something that might befall me; though I 
say not that I seriously /ooked for the coming of evil, or, — 
aside from that day, thus soliloquized.” “For a while 
time passed smoothly on, bringing no changes. I followed. 
on in the current of carelessness and thoughtlessness, | 
when suddenly, by an unforeseen Providence, I was 
checked in my course, being stricken with a lameness 
from which I have never fully recovered.” ) 

It seems that the latter part of May, while zealously 
assisting her mother “in that ever-incumbent duty of 
housekeepers, in the spring, house-cleaning,’ — her older 
sisters being all absent, —- she began to notice “a stiffness 
in one of her knees, accompanied by a slight pain beneath | 
the patella.” . Not aware of serious difficulty, she indulged 
for a short time in her favorite walks, but the trouble then 
assumed a more aggravated form; and the lameness, 
caused at first only by a sprain and the settling of a cold 


MISS MARTHA ALMA PIPER. Tal 


in hersknee, was soon after pronounced by physicians to 
be a scrofula white swelling. She became a confirmed 
invalid, destined never again to enjoy the free use of her 
limbs, but ever after to forego her much-loved sports and 
rambles in the open air, and to relinquish all hope of bodily 
helpfulness to her parents and friends. 

Through this same affliction, however, she was made 
more reflective, introspective, and active with mind and 
pen, and was enabled, by God’s grace, to develop that 
Christian character which should most truly bless her 
influence, and give to her short remaining life its peculiar 
charm and value. 

As proof of this, and as marking the commencement 
of her religious experience, we give the following extracts 
from a letter written to a former schoolmate: “T have 
been much changed in mud as well as in body ; I hope 
for the better. It isa year ago last May since I was first 
lame. For more than three months I was closely confined. 
Do not think I am sorry for this lameness. Knowing it 
to be my Heavenly Father’s will, I would submit without 
a murmur. I think I can thank the good and merci- 
ful Lord for afflicting me. In so doing he has given me 
opportunity to think over my past life, and see what a 
wicked creature I have been; as also a time and space for 
repentance. I trust I “ave repented and have been for- 
given. I now enjoy such a life as I would not exchange 
for my former life, by any means. How is it with you? 
Are you living as when here, enjoying merely the pleasures 
of this world? Live so no longer. Seek that enjoyment 
and happiness which are lasting, which will stand by you 
in this world and in the world to come, and ‘ will work out 


° 


12 SKETCHES FROM THE LIFE OF 


for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.’ 
.. . Will you not listen to this? The Saviour's call obey. | 
Do give your earnest attention to the subject of religion, 
now, Will you not? Read the precious Bible, and pray 
every day. Do it earnestly and God will hear you... . 
How far was I from what I should have been, that winter 
you were here, — the last winter that I went to school! 
How did I spend it? Not profitably. How much I used 
to say about the teacher! How sinful in the sight of God, 
and how wrong to set such an example before you. Will 
you forgive it? And your mother, too, who sent you here 
to improve in every way? Do not follow such examples. 
God did not make us to hate and feel above each other ; 
but He tells us, John 13:34, to love one another as he 
has loved us.” 


CHA Piha sain 
THE REMOVAL. 


One of the most pleasing prose sketches found among 
Miss Piper's papers is the account of her journey from 
her former home in Weston to her new home in Clare- 
mont, N. H., where her father, having three years pre- 
viously disposed of the original homestead in Weston, 
had more recently bought a farm about two and a half 
miles south of the village. 

This was in the spring of 1859. Her sisters had arrived 
at Claremont with the goods, by the common road, and 
Ellen had just written a note home assuring her parents 


MISS MARTHA ALMA PIPER. 13 


_ of their good success, and encouraging Martha to “keep a 
stout heart.” 

Speaking of herself, in the third person, she describes 
her emotions on rising for the last time, long before day, 
in the cottage (the “parsonage house”) at Weston, where 
they had resided for two years. “ M. had carefully arranged 
her riding garments, and sat for a few moments gazing 
intently upon the coals still bright in the fireplace before 
her, in that now almost deserted room, awaiting the an- 
nouncement that all was ready. Her heart was moved by 
_the scene, and her eyes filled with tears while she raised 
a secret prayer to God for his guidance and protection. 
Presently, her father and brother came in, as the latter 
pleasantly remarked, ‘for the most precious part of our 
load, and taking her in both their arms, her tender and 
loving mother leading the way, they carried and deposited 
her in the easy place which had been arranged in the 
vehicle that was to convey them to the railroad station 
twelve miles distant.” “The moonlight ride through the 
silent street of the village where her life had all been 
spent thus far,” “the last look at every well-known object,” 
and especially “towards the stately dwelling which had 
been her early home,” and “ familiar friends and neighbors 
now unconsciously wrapped in quiet slumbers,” are all 
touchingly alluded to. “She yielded to her emotions, and 
silently wept.’ The ascent of the mountain “till the 
morning star visible in the east heralded the corning light 
of day,” the music of the rippling water where the tired 
horses stopped to drink, the arrival at Chester at the 
awakening of the villagers, and the passage thence by 
cars to Bellows Falls, are portrayed with a vividness which ~ 


r4°° SKETCHES FROM THE LIFE OF 


shows that even the ordinary scenes of a journey struck 
the mind of our invalid with ever fresh delight. Most 
gratefully does she speak of the kind attentions of stran- 
gers who assisted her over an “ excavated space,” or wash- 
out, into another train of cars that awaited the passengers 
on the other side of the stream. In a subsequent metrical 
description of this journey, she says :— | 
“We ne’er expect again to meet 
On earth those friendly strangers. 


May God regard their generous aid, 
And grant his choicest blessings.” 


After two hours’ waiting at Bellows Falls, their ride. 
was continued up the lovely Connecticut Valley to North 
Charlestown. 


‘“‘ Near close of day we reached our new-found home — 
In safety, having passed 
Through dangers and apparent trials borne 
(To nature’s weakened frame so much unused), 
But in our Heavenly Father’s care 
e _ Were shielded from all harm.” 


* MISS MARTHA ALMA. PIPER. 15 


CHAPTER IV. 
THE NEW HOME, 


Tue drvoad valley of the Connecticut presented a 
marked contrast to Martha’s mind with the zarrow one 
of West River in which she used to live at Weston. 
Ever susceptible both to the natural and artificial beauties 
of her surroundings, she thus describes. the landscape as 
viewed from her father’s house in Claremont: “A broad 
plain stretching towards the southwest, with clusters of _ 
different trees, —of variegated hues in autumn, — from 
behind which a train of cars, with its puffing engine, may 
be often seen appearing and reappearing, till finally disap- 
pearing in the distance with its long line of smoke” ; “the 
neat farm-houses scattered here and there,” and “ towering 
above all, the high and broad Ascutney at the north.” 
Soon after reaching Claremont she commenced or re- 
sumed a record of more important events and circum- 
stances connected with herself and family, and after January 
I, 1860, this record took more nearly the form of a diary- 

“Fan. 17. . When the prospect was so inviting without 
for others to take a walk upon the crust, I took my walk 
(on crutches) as far as the doorsteps, while the milk- 
man’s bells jingled merrily past as he drove on his way 
towards the village. I forbore to go farther, as ! might 
have slipped and thus endangered my knee, but tried to be 
thankful for this privilege, and returned to join the family 
‘at the breakfast-table. 

“ March 6. Walked out just before noon, on bare 
ground, the farthest that I have been privileged to do 
since winter came.” 


16 SKETCHES FROM THE LIFE OF * 


The following summer a wide-spreading elm-tree, near 
the house, afforded her a quiet retreat. She says of the 
seat which her father there constructed for her and her 
sister, July 7th, “May it be the scene of much joyfulness : 
may hearts here be raised in Seana to God for the many 
tokens of his love and goodness.” Here, from time to 
time, she enjoyed much in company with her sisters and 
other dear friends, or in solitude, listening to the birds, 
drinking in lessons of wisdom from every object, musing 
upon her own unuttered meditations, expressing her 
feelings in prose and verse, or reading from her favorite 
authors. 

Her journal records were continued only about two 
years after moving to Claremont. She evidently did not 
design them for the inspection of others, as they are often 
written in a very fine hand, or almost illegibly, with a 
pencil; yet they let us into her inner life and feelings, 
and vividly portray the outward attractions as well as the 
social joys and sorrows of her new home. She makes 
judicious observations upon what she reads, and shows 
that her sympathies are strongly aroused in behalf of John 
Brown, his fellow-prisoners, and others who figured in the 
early dawn of our nation’s struggle. 

She thus early discloses that great interest in the cause 
of missions which she cherished through life, and was des- 
tined to honor in a peculiarly affecting manner after her 
death. Noticing, from year to year, her annual offering, 
she mourns that it is “so humble,” and expresses her sym- 
pathy for “the poor heathen upon whom the light of 
Christ’s Gospel is only beginning to shine.” 

An important event in the town, like the meeting of the 
General Association, or a political mass-gathering, calls 


MISS MARTHA ALMA PIPER. 17 


forth her reflections, as also the deaths in her neighbor- 
hood. She records her feelings on hearing from her old 
neighbors in Weston, especially when the small-pox was 
raging there; expresses great interest in her father’s 
pecuniary and business affairs, and playfully descants upon 
the first visits of old friends at their new home, and in 
particular upon the somewhat ludicrous circumstances of 
her good brother James'’s first arrival and departure. She 
sings with the singing birds, draws moral lessons from the 
early flowers, the first ripe fruit, the “clinging vine,” “the 
worm upon the rose,” etc., and thus proves herself a keen 
‘observer of Nature in all her phases, and one a/zve to her 
varied beauties. But she also “looks through nature up 
to nature’s God.” She praises her Heavenly Father for 
the sunshine and the rain (“in answer to prayer”); for 
his refreshing goodness in the strawberries, the cherries, 
and the luscious fruits of autumn. Thankfulness and 
cheerfulness, in short, characterize all this part of her 
writings ; and as she notices, at different times, the favor- 
able symptoms in her lameness, her gratitude is very 
sensibly awakened; yet not till the middle of September 
of this year (1860) was she able to take her first ride in 
Claremont (after arriving), and that in a sulky drawn by 
her brother, with her brother-in-law, “ Kimball, to assist 
and push behind.” She passed by the grove and the 
favorite seat “where Ellen used to sit,’ and thence up to 
one of their kind neighbors. Her heart was full to over- 
flowing. 


@ 


18 SKETCHES FROM THE LIFE OF 


CICA Pik Vv. 
THE SHADOW OF DEATH. . 


As the last clauses might presage, her heart ie home, 
amid all their abounding cheerfulness, had yet been dark- 
ened by affliction. Death had once and again cast “his 
shadow upon the loved circle of which she was one of the 
links, lessening their number. 

December 9, 1859, “we received the solemn intelligence 
of the death of our aged grandfather, in Bennington, Vt., 
at the residence of his ,oldest son.” Hezekiah Bennett» 
was his name, his age eighty-five. 

With the exception of lameness and an viene ankle 
he had always enjoyed good health; only complained of 
shortness of breath — but declined all attention — at ten 
o’clock in the evening, and was found dead the next morn- 
ing on being summoned to breakfast. “ His eminently 
pious companion had preceded him about eleven years, 
whom we cannot but hope he has joined in the realms of 
the blest, no more to suffer affliction and sorrow.” 

The failure to receive the intelligence in season pre- 
vented her mother or any of the family, much to their 
regret, from attending the funeral in Weston. 

In her tribute to her grandfather's memory, January 12, 
1860, she writes : — 


“‘Oft hast thou been bereft while here balan 
Of brave beloved forms, whom none could save ; 
One son of promise ’neath the ocean wave sank. low, 
And far from home e found a watery grave. 


“Thou hast seen thy children gathered round thee, 
Rising to manhood and entering on life’s stage, 


MISS MARTHA ALMA PIPER. 19 


And now their children’s children thou hast lived to see, 
And goest to thy rest in good old age.” 


Soon after, her eldest sister, Mariam, Mrs. Wilson, who 
had dwelt with them in their retired cottage home from 
the first of their coming to it, nine months before, departed 
to join her husband at Manchester, N. H., where he had 
lately commenced business. 

Only one sister now remained with her at home. For 
a few months their delightful companionship was con- 
tinued ; but the sudden removal of that sister by death, 
was to prove the great bereavement of her life thus far, of 
which she has left a very full narrative, most tenderly 
composed. On the 22d of July, 1860, while the two sis- 
ters were quietly enjoying their Sabbath together at home, 
the other members of the family being at the house of 
God, Ellen was attacked by a violent illness, which her 
invalid sister did all she could to relieve, till their parents’ 
return. But the best of attendance afterwards could not 
arrest the rapid progress of the disease, and in a little 
more than a week she had passed from earth. The “ fam- 
ily gathering” which they soon expected to welcome toa 
house of feasting was thus exchanged for another to a 
house of mourning. Their anxious father had gone to 
Grafton, Vt., to get their older sister, — the wife of Dr. G, 
“W. Hunt, of that place, —with whom he did not reach 
home again till4p.m.on Monday. ‘Mother met them at 
the carriage and told them they had come too late, — she 
was dead.” 

The dear Ellen had breathed her last that morning, 
about two o'clock, with none of the family present except 
Martha and her mother. The chair of the zxvalid had 


20 * SKETCHES FROM THE LIFE OF 


been set beside the bed of the dyimg daughter. “We were 
each holding one of her clay-cold hands, and I the cup of 
wine and water of which she was being fed to raise her 
strength, as she was sinking rapidly. Mother spoke, and 
told her to lay herself right into the Saviour’s arms ; then, 
being asked if He was precious, and requested to press our 
hands, she gave the token, as also when asked ‘ Does He | 
enclose you in his loving arms?’ She was almost gone, 
but roused again, and only said, when asked, ‘Are you not 
going to leave us with your blessing ?’—‘ Yes: tell the 
dear ones all, good-by ; father, mother dear, James, Kim- 
ball, Mariam, Doctor, and elves meet me, one and all, 
in heaven, and spoke no more.’ 
Alluding to this death-scene, she afterwaee writes : 


‘She hath left us here, but her beacon-light, 

‘Meet me in Heaven,’ still shineth bright. 
May it guide us straight to the blessed shore, 
Where we’ll meet again to part no more.” 


CHA Pact hia 
ITEMS OF RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE, 


Ir was not until March 8, 1859, the communion season 
before she left Weston, that she joined the Congregational 
Church in that place. | 

For three years previously she had indulged a hope in 
Christ, but was troubled with many misgivings as to her 
fitness to unite with his people. Her pastor in Weston, 
Rev. Mr. Coburn, dealt very judiciously, and yet faithfully 


% 


MISS' MARTHA ALMA PIVER. oa 


and kindly with her, and it was proposed at one time — 
indeed, the Sabbath afternoon was set —for the church 
to assemble at her father’s house and permit her there to 
make the profession of her faith. But the ill health of the 
pastor on that day prevented. Martha recognized the 
hand of God in all the way in which she was thus led, and 
in the other repeated delays which she experienced, till at 
last, with a calmer spirit anda more assured faith, she was 
enabled to visit the house of God herself, on the Sabbath 
before mentioned. With that church she was never again 
to meetrand commune. It was her parents’ church for 
many years, and one of her sisters had joined it but a 
year before. For these reasons, doubtless, she desired to 
be enrolled among its members, though so soon as the 
second of September following, her letter of dismission, 
with that of her parents and her two sisters, Mariam and 
Ellen, was presented to the Congregational Church in 
Claremont, and accepted, she greatly regretting in her 
diary that she was unable to go with them in person and 
answer to her name by her presence, thus “ acknowledging 
Christ anew before men.” That these professions of re- 
ligion were sincere, we have abundant proof in her utter- 
ances. “TI have felt the weakness of my nature and the 
power of my besetting sins of late; and what is worst of 
all, I have not resisted them fully, and as a consequence, 
have not enjoyed that nearness to my Saviour that I other- 
wise might have done. I have felt unwilling to follow in 
everything the teachings of conscience, though I could not 
be happy while disobedient. Yet have I felt the constrain- 
ing power of the Spirit drawing me unto him, and I see 
his merciful kindness in not forsaking me.” 


* 


a2 ; SKETCHES. FROM. d HE. LIFE “OF 


“My Father in Heaven, wilt thou draw near unto me 
and grant me thy presence through this day? Wilt thou 
twine around our hearts (my sisters’ and mine) a silver 
cord of love, and also around these dear ones .of our 
family? These dear parents, wilt thou revive thy work 
continually in their hearts, and enable them to overcome 
and glorify thy name much in their declining years? . 
Wilt thou lead these (the unconverted and wandering 
ones) humbly to thy feet, confessing their sins and giving 
themselves to thee in an everlasting covenant?” 

Her desire to improve opportunities for conversing with 
others upon the interests of their souls was strong and 
habitual; so that whenever such opportunities were neg- 
lected, she bitterly mourns her unfaithfulness. This is — 
forcibly shown, when she “turned back” (from her last 
glimpse of the dark and lonely procession that bore away 
her sister Ellen) “ and re-entered the little parlor, deserted 
of family and kindred, where a few friends still remained, 
and the thought occurred that she might speak a word 
so that good might follow this sad scene.’ Most earn- 
estly aid she speak, desiring them (with herself) “to turn 
now to the Lord with all our hearts, and so live that we 
may meet her at last.” She also “fought the good fight 
of faith” in her daily personal experience, striving against 
what she calls her “false, unnatural appetite,” driving out 
her murmuring thoughts, and triumphing over those 
doubts respecting the inspiration of the Bible and other 
doctrines, which occasionally flashed upon her mind. . 

Happily was she wont to turn every item of intelligence 
and every new circumstance in her own history to a spiri- 
tual account; as when April 22, 1861, she breathes her 


MISS MARTHA ALMA PIPER. 23 


fervent supplication for the first soldiers of her acquaint- 
ance: “ May the Spirit of God go with them and lead 
them to give their hearts to the Saviour, that trusting in 
him they may seek his protection and be brought home 
in safety”; or when on the afternoon of June 4th she 
rode to a place from which she could see Claremont 
Village for the first time. “I had never seen so large a 
place (before), It was quite a privilege. The goodness 
of God is great in permitting me to enjoy so much.” 


6 eA PEE Rt VAIL. 
“THE FAVORITE PASTOR. 


Late.y favored with a new pair of crutches, Martha 
was permitted, on the 26th of June, 1861, to visit for the 
first time the “village” she had first gazed upon at a 
distance three weeks before. “It is a beautiful place!” 
she exclaims, “and this is a wonderful world, full of mar- 
vellous things in nature and art, but the greatest and most 
blessed work of our great Creator is that of his grace.” 
From this time she was enabled, occasionally, to attend 
the sanctuary and some of the social meetings of the 
church; to be present, also, a few times, at the ladies’ 
circles, to make articles of comfort for the soldiers. Her 
interest was greatly deepened in all these privileges by 
the coming of a new pastor to the Congregational Church 
in Claremont, the Rev. Edward W. Clark. | 

Between her and this “favorite pastor” a very warm 
friendship immediately sprang up. He was every way 


24 SKETCHES FROM 1HE LIFE OF 
worthy of her esteem, and, as shown by letters which she 
afterwards received from him, he fully reciprocated her 
love and confidence. She used to write imaginary “de- 
fences” of her pastor for her own amusement, and on 
several occasions indited “lines” of welcome or encourage- 
ment. She also wrote out many valuable “notes” on his 
lectures and sermons, with a few remembered expressions 
from his prayers. Soon after his arrival at Claremont 
(Oct. 26, 1863), she wrote (but probably did not send:him) 
an “address of welcome,” two closing stanzas as follows :— 


“ Thou ’rt welcome by the ‘flock,’ 
They ‘ll lift for thee their prayer ; 
Oh, may thé ‘Shepherd’ be thy ‘ Rock,’ 
And bless thy labors here. 


“ May God upon thee send 
Abundant blessings down, 
And set, at last, upon thy head 
A bright and starry crown.” 


At the close of the “week of prayer,” 1867, she penned 
a few “humble lines” for her pastor, but, with character- 
istic modesty, retained them for about six months, when 
at last she sent them to him with an affectionate note of 


dedication. The first and last stanzas were these :— 


“Take courage, much loved Pastor, 

Thou yet mayst be made glad, 

Though all around is dreary, 
And thine own heart is sad. 

Thou hast thy duty fully done ; 
Be not dismayed, nor fear. 

The living God hath heard thy prayers ; 
To answer, He is near. 


MISS MARTHA ALMA PiPER. 25 


“ Then do not be discouraged ! 

Though now it looks so dark ; 

The blessjng, though delayed, will come 
And cheer thy drooping heart. 

The Lord will bless thy labors, 
They shall not be in vain: 

God seeth not as man sees, — 
Thy fruit here shall remain.” 


On a certain Fast Day she expresses her sympathy for 
him, on a bed of sickness, in the following strain :— 


‘¢ See, our beloved Pastor’s laid 
Upon a bed of pain! 
Let us, then, from our God, for him, 
Seek Azs bright smiles again. 


“Though God doth chasten for a while, 
We now ’tis for our good ; 
The blessing that shall follow pain 
Will feed our souls with food. 


“ Surely and gently raise him up 
To go forth with new power, 
Strengthened to be a guide to those 
Committed to his care.” 


Repeatedly, when Mr. Clark took his annual vacation, 
did she follow him with a “good-by,” and then hail his 
return with a “welcome,” from which pieces we select 
these fragments, in conclusion :— 


“Thrice welcome, roaring engine, 

That swiftly bears z#ee home, 
Our absent and loved Pastor ; 
In safety mayst thou come.” 


NoveMBeEr 8, 1866. 


26 » SKETCHES FROM THE LIFE OF 


* Loving people wait to greet thee, 
Soon we know thou ’lt hither come ; 
Tree and leaf and blossom: even, 
Mutely bid thee welcome home. 


*¢ Home. to labor on a season, eet 
To complete thy work of love, 
Then to share unending respite 
In the blissful ‘ Home’ above.” 


SEPTEMBER 18THe 


Happy the pastor who has even one prayerful, sympa- 
thizing heart — though that of an invalid — thus to sustain 
and cheer him. He fully appreciated this sympathy, and 
did to Martha many kindnesses in turn, especially by 
loaning her books and giving her occasional rides. She 
says: “I have been so kindly and abundantly provided 
with books, I wish to render praise to God for all these 
favors, as well as to be very grateful to my kind pastor, 
who has lent me many.” 

It is only to be regretted that 42s pastor, who knew our. 
dear friend ‘so well, should not have been permitted to 
compile this tribute to her memory. 


MISS MARTHA. ALMA PIPER. 27 


ere dr atv ay Ve LT, 
A NEW SORROW — REMINISCENCES. 


In January and February, of 1868 —destined to be a 
year of change and of sorrow,—we find the subject of 
these sketches resuming her personal record, at.a few dif- 
ferent dates, evincing greater compass of thought and 
maturity of Christian experience than in her diary of 
previous years, but with no lessening of her humiity. 
January 26th she says “ During the last week God has 
been trying me with disappointment and renewed lame- 
ness. I cannot but feel that ’tis all for my soul’s good, 
and hope it may result in the honor of Christ. My heart 
has been rebellious. I have wanted everything my own 
way. But God has shown me that “7s will is to be my 
guide....I have greatly lacked faith — simplicity of 
faith. I desire to be more conscious of my sinfulness. 
There is much self-righteousness in my heart. I wish to 
ascribe all praise to Chrzs¢,— to delight in “zm as my all.” 

“Sabbath, February 2d. I desire to record the faith- 
fulness of God to me. I know that he answers the 
petitions of his weak one. I have of late enjoyed sweet . 
communion with him ‘in the morning,’ whereas I had 
been troubled with doubts at that season, and my devo- 
tions were greatly hindered thereby. But I have asked 
at evening, before sleeping, for nearness to God in prayer, 
in the morning, and blessed be his holy name, he has 
granted in good measure my request.” 

From these and other passages, there is evidence of a 
ripening in her Christian experience. For what was she 


28 SKEACHES PROM Fhe hee 


thus preparing? In little more than a week from the 
latter date a telegram was received, announcing to the 
stricken household the death of her sister Mariam (Mrs. 
Wilson), they “not having before heard anything respect- 
ing her illness.” “Cynthia received the dispatch which 
we forwarded to her, Tuesday, about 10 A. M., and came 
to us with her husband and little ones, arriving about dark 
on the same p.M. Our bereaved brother, with little Alice, 
and the remains of our dear departed, had arrived only 
about three hours before. The remaining members of our 
broken family circle mingled their tears together, and pre- 
pared to pay the last tribute of affection to the memory of 
her who had so recently been snatched from our embrace.” 

This sudden death of her sister led to a change of her 
father’s family residence for a year,—her brother-in-law 
having rented a farm in the town of Sanbornton, and 
desiring her parents, with herself, to come and make a 
home for him and his motherless little one. Their resi- 
dence in Sanbornton was one of the most attractive in 
town, being the old homestead of the first settled minister 
(the “Woodman Place”), on the brow of the hill near 
where the first meeting-house stood, commanding a most 
extensive prospect towards the south and west, and itself 
embowered by lofty, wide-spreading elms. 

Here the writer's acquaintance with Martha commenced, 
April 17, 1868. He was struck from the first, and ever 
after, with the peculiarly sweet expression of her coun- 
tenance, — pale from her past sufferings, yet animated by 
the radiance of her full, sparkling eyes, and lit up by her 
peaceful, winning smile; her noble forehead crowned with 
luxuriant hair, which overhung her shoulders in wavy 


MISS MARTHA ALMA PIPER. 29 


ringlets ; to which must be added the evident amiability 
of her disposition, the vivacity of her temperament, the 
refinement of her manners, and the intelligence of her con- 
versation, so delicately, not officiously, seasoned with the 
salt of divine grace, her chief “ornament” being that “of a 
meek and quiet spirit.” 

She was able to attend public worship a few times, and 
at least one person affirmed that hers was “ the sweetest 
face” that individual had “ever seen within the walls” of 
our sanctuary. Once, too, her Sanbornton pastor was 
favored with a visit, at his house, from her and her little 
niece, and the pleasure which it afforded can never be 
effaced from his memory. Rarely has a family been 
found, in so short a time, to win the esteem of a whole 
community, as did this family. Never have we known an 
individual to awaken a deeper interest than did Martha in 
the minds of ail who saw, and the hearts of all who knew 
her. The scenery of her new home had for her a peculiar 
charm. During the summer months she executed several 
pencil sketches of “Kearsarge,” and other mountains, as 
seen towards the southwest, as well as of the “old Manse” 
itself, from a short distance. Her hands were also busy 
making keepsakes and rustic ornaments now seen in sev- 
-eral of our houses. 

Her stay with us was but too short; for at the expira- 
tion of a single year, the engagement of her brother-in- 
law, Mr. Wilson, having terminated, she returned with her 
father and mother to her loved Claremont home, never 
again on earth to renew the friendships formed on the hills 
of Sanbornton. 


30 SKETCHES FROM THE LIFE OF 


It is from this brief acquaintance of one year, and the 
additional. interest awakened since her death by the 
receipt of her beautiful picture, that the writer has been 
induced to take upon himself the mournful task of review- 
ing her papers and of extracting and arranging therefrom 
the material for this Memorial. 


CHAPTER <1 xe 
THE CLOSING SCENE. 


MARTHA continued in comfortable .health for several 
weeks after returning to Claremont, and, on the 8th of 
June, was able to ride to the neighboring town of Cornish, 
with her brother, to attend the County Conference, of 
which she has left a written account. She there remained, 
visiting at the home of her sister, Mrs. Hunt, till the 3d 
of July. But the very day after reaching her own home, 
on her return, July 4, 1869, she was obliged to take her 
bed, and her disease soon assumed its final supremacy 
over the powers of nature. 

For several weeks she could only be ‘carried occasion- 
ally into the open air in her father’s arms, but afterwards 
regained strength enough to ride out twice for a short dis- 
tance, having once been drawn out by hand. In coming 
back to her sick room from her last ride, September 30th, 
her faithful crutches were. used for the last time. AQ re- 
peated and much severer attack of her disease soon fol- 
lowed, to allay which, strong opiates were necessarily 
administered, and these prevented that freedom of utter- 


MISS MARTHA ALMA PIFER.— 31 


ance she might otherwise have enjoyed during her few 
remaining days; yet on Sabbath morning, Oct. 3d, when 
her father read in her hearing the 103d Psalm, and she 
was asked if she could join in it,—“ Oh, yes,” was her 
reply, “I am always ready to bless the Lord,” and on the 
same occasion she united with the family in singing two 
stanzas of the hymn, “Shall we sing in heaven forever?” 
her voice being very clear. During that day she said but 
little, seemed to have no particular messages to leave for 
any of her friends, and only sought to cheer her sorrowing 
mother with the assurance of her happy state, and of her 
gratitude for all that mother’s kind attentions. In the lit- 
tle she did say, the ruling purpose of her Christian life was 
still apparent ; for even after the hand of death was upon 
her, she was overheard to ask a friend sitting by her side 
if she was living for Jesus. But her patient, lamb-like 
spirit was beyond description. Her countenance was 
radiant at times; and while the elements without were 
raging in the most fearful storm (Oct. 5 and 4, 1869) 
which has visited New England for many years, her spirit, 
without fear or distrust, went peacefully forth to the pres- 
ence of her Saviour. 

Her funeral was appropriately attended by that “favor- 
ite pastor” who would gladly have “taken his place as a 
mourner.” One or two incidents in the sequel may prove 
that her desire to honor Christ was strong in death, and 
that, in an affecting sense, her “works did follow her.” 
Those luxuriant cuv/s, which had been her chief ‘ outward 
adorning,” were cut off by her direction just before her 
death, tastefully arranged with her own hands in a box, 


32 SKETCHES’ FROM, THE BALL CC 


and afterwards taken to Boston by her pastor, where they 
were sold for seven dollars and fifty cents, and the money 
divided equally between the “ American Tract Society” 
and the “Seaman’s Friend Society,’ according to her 
request. 

The other incident is this: A beautiful cone dasket, made 
by her'with great care before she left Sanbornton, was, 
upon her death-bed, bequeathed to the “ American Board - 
of Foreign Missions.” This, also, was placed in the 
charge of Rev. E. W. Clark, and carried by him to the 
annual meeting of the Board, in New York, a few days 
after her death. He subsequently wrote to her mother in 
regard to it, as follows :— 

‘Now, a word about the dear sainted Martha’s cone 
basket, her last dying gift to the Missionary cause, —— 
pleasant news, which perhaps her sainted spirit knows, 
and at which she rejoices. The basket was taken to the 
annual meeting of the Woman’s Board, my letter accom- 
panying it read, and, amid smiles and tears of joy, the 
basket was passed around. One good woman, almost 
weeping at dear Martha’s sweet spirit and gift of love to 
Jesus, dropped in two dollars,—the first gift ; and so from 
one to another through the assembly, and then it was 
found that the precious basket had gathered one hundred 
and twenty-five dollars for Jesus. 

The end is not yet; the basket, consecrated by herself 
to Christ and his cause, in much prayer, has another 
mission to perform: it goes to the missionary rooms, to 
be hung up there, and its story with it, to gather further 
contributions to the cause dear Martha loved. Doubtless, 


MISS MARTHA ALMA PIPER. 33 


more than her earthly expectations are thus realized. 
Perhaps she is glad with us over this result. So, being 
dead, her works remain, and she thus speaketh.” 

To which we can only append, as a most fitting close 
for our Memorial, the following letter, written by Mrs. 
Bowker, Secretary of the Woman’s Board, to Martha’s 
mother : — 


East Boston, July 1, 1871. 


Mrs. K. N. PIPER: — 

My dear sister in Christ, — My heart has been very much drawn 
towards you—though a stranger — through your beloved daughter. 
I was deeply interested in the account given of her by her pastor, — 
her meekness and patience through a protracted, suffering sickness ; 
her self-sacrificing spirit, that was ever fertile and active in devising 
ways and means to give to the cause of Christ. 

The “cone basket ” forwarded us was a touching memorial of her 
love to Jesus ; and may we not feel that the many prayers she offered 
while making it were answered in the generous sums contributed 
towards it at our annual meeting, of which you have already been 
apprised? It will continue to solicit pennies for the heathen in our 
Missionary Room. ‘ 

Miss Elizabeth Hammett, a dear Christian sister of our church in 
East Boston, was greatly interested in her history, especially her 
missionary love and zeal, and contributed twenty-five dollars to con- 
stitute you a ‘ Life Member” of the Woman’s Board of Missions: 
Enclosed please find the certificate. We congratulate you that you 
were the mother of so Christlike a child. She was ripe indeed for 
the Master’s use, and as “He had need of her,” he called her up 
higher, for the glorious employments of heaven. 

Happy daughter, so early crowned! Happy mother, to have such 
a treasure to give such a King! Happy may we all be at length, to 
meet her in our “ Father’s house,” and together, with every kindred, 
every clime, “crown Jesus, Lord of all.” 


Yours, very truly, 
Mrs. ALBERT BOWKER. 





PAR D1. 


Sélections from Her Writings, 


WITH 


NOTICES OF: THE.SAME. 


pee TrON «1. 
| LIFE LESSONS. 


Amona her “Life Lessons,” as she terms her practical 
retlections upon sundry texts of Scripture, we find the fol- 
owing :— 

‘The Lord lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace.””? — Numps. 6:26. 


Go, rock the cradle of the helpless infant, and woo it from its rest- 
less crying to gentle slumbers. Mark how it tosses from side to side 
upon its pillow, in painful unrest, unheeding your lullabies, till at 
length, its face upturned, its eyes meet your steadfast gaze, and 
soothed by your assuring countenance, it quietly lies with its trustful 
eyes fixed upon you, answering back with a guileless baby smile, and. 
manifesting a peculiar delight, till, anon, the eyelids droop and close, 
and the little one falls into unconscious slumber, smiling as it sleeps. 

How strikingly does this illustrate the loving relation between 
Christ and his “little ones.” 

Wearied and tossed on life’s restless bosom, their troubled souls 
find no rest, till, with upward gaze and steady search, they are assured 
that the ever-watchful and loving eye of their Saviour is bent upon 


36 SELECTIONS FROM HER WRITINGS, 


them. Then, amid all life’s turmoil, they dwell securely, ‘fearing 
naught so long as they keep in view the approving as well as guiding 
smile of their Divine Master. But so soon as they grow weary of 
watching, and turn aside their gaze and become absorbed with earth’s 
trifles, they are restless and unhappy, dissatisfied with themselves 
and all about them, ¢z//, returning to their Saviour with penitence and 
obedience, they feel that his smiling countenance is again resting 
upon them to “give them peace,” and his arms outstretched to 
shield and protect them.. This alone is their rest till the end comes 
and this life of weary struggle and confusion is exchanged for one of 
unmingled delight in the immediate presence of their blessed Lord, 
where “are pleasures forevermore.” . 


“Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity.” 


How sad that it should ever be otherwise! I am not alluding to 
harsh words, noisy discord, and angry contention in the family, but 
rather to an undercurrent in human’ experience, — that lurking evil 
in the heart which, although it does not develop itself in open acts of 
unkindness and disturbance, is still the cause of much that is gloomy 
and. unhappy in the family circle. . . . We are placed in this 
world of trial where we must expect often to meet with unpleasant 
circumstances. We see discrepancies in others, and may differ from 
them in our opinions ; but should ¢/zs be a sufficient cause for morose- 
ness, and the indulgence of wrong feelings which will usually display 
their influence in our actions? Do we consider that we are con- 
stantly exerting an influence, and that our own’spirit and manner are 
communicated to others? Whether we are actuated by good motives 
or otherwise, our actions are bearing their part in our life scene, and 
when the picture is completed, we shall have to behold it, though 
there be many things that will fill us with “shame and confusion of 
face.” Let us, then, consider that we have a duty to perform; and 
does it not, in a great measure, consist in subduing, with the help of 
grace, the evils of our nature, as also in contributing, according to 
our ability, to the happiness of those around us? 

Let us s¢rzve, if we would conquer, and set ourselves at once about 


° 


WITH. NOTICES OF (THE SAME. 37 


our task, never growing weary, but drawing daily from the “fountain 
of living waters.” Then shall we be filled with joy ourselves, shall 
have the satisfaction of knowing that we have been instrumental in. 
making others happy, and shall receive as the reward of our labor 
the blessed greeting from our great and holy Redeemer, “ Well done, 
thou good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of thy 
Lord.” 


_—_—__— 


_ **T will instruct thee, and teach thee in the way which thou shalt go. I will guide thee 
with mine eye.” — PsaLMs 32:8. 


An obedient child, when wishing to engage in some pleasure or 
employment congenial to his tastes, watches the countenance of his 
loving mother with anxious solicitude to discover her will in the 
matter, and whether he is to meet a smile of approval ora gentle 
denial. If it be the latter, though at first it might sorely try his 
patience, and his sinful heart would zat¢urally rise in rebellion, yet 
he feels that “mother knows best,” and that she would by no means 
deny him the gratification of his desires were it really for his good. 
Thus he learns to obey cheerfully, and then how happily he pursues 
his way, while, had he disobeyed, a gloom would have been cast over 
all things about him, his former pleasures would become a weariness, 
and a heavy burden would lie on his heart. How forcibly does the 

"government of a wise parent over her child thus illustrate to us 
God’s government of his children! 

Though often, it may be very often, he requires the Christian to 
relinquish his fondest wishes and plans, how lovingly does God supply 
a greater benefit, —a sweet consolation, — causing the very trial to 
produce the fruits of grace in our hearts, and in due time, when he 
sees fit, how abundantly does he provide even more than we desired. 
He would have us learn to wazt, and trust his goodness and care. 

-When we look upon Nature’s loveliness, spread in such profusion 
around us, meeting our gaze on every hand, springing up at our feet, 
and looking down from the sky, every leaf and flower so wonderful 
and perfect in its kind, can we doubt that the same upholding hand 
will supply all our pressing wants? “If God so clothe the grass,” 
will he not much more clothe you? ’Tis sweet, indeed, to yield up 


38 SELECTIONS FROM HER WRITINGS, 


all our concerns into the hands of Jesus; to trust his care, and wait 
for his guidance and blessing. 

Oh, teach us to follow thee more humbly, obediently, and joyfully — 
— “to know no will but thine.” | 





What an example of humility has our Saviour given us, when his 
disciples acknowledged him to be “the Christ of God,” and his 
works revealed his greatness; and yet he “straitly charged them 
that they should tell no man these things.” He had a prospect of 
great suffering before him. He would not rejoice in his greatness 
till that be past. He would move quietly through the world, unob- 
served and undistinguished, save in those hearts which were touched 
by his word. He wished to do them good, but cared not for noisy 
and open praise. Shall we not profit by this lesson from the life of 
our Lord? Though the world may flatter and applaud, — for it can-. 
not penetrate the heart which we know and God knows is “desper- 
ately wicked,” — yet because we are szzfu/, it becometh us to “be 
clothed with humility’? and fear. 

We, too, have a conflict before us, —a conflict with sin and tempta- - 
tion, which shall endure to the end of our life. Then why should we 
rejoice in aught save Jesus’ love and sufferings ? 





“‘GLEANINGS BY THE WAYSIDE | 


Is the title prefixed to a prose sketch of eight or nine 
pages, delineating scenes and impressions on a summer 
evening ride to the village (of Claremont), after she had 
so far recovered from her lameness that “with feelings 
of mingled pleasure and gratitude” she could enjoy “ such 
a privilege, through the abounding goodness of God.” 


As we approached the brow of a hill our attention became fixed 
upon the sublime scene presented to our view. The beams of the 
declining sun, now shielded by overhanging, bright-edged clouds, 
and now emerging into view, fell upon surrounding objects, flooding 


WITH NOTICES OF THE SAME. 3 39 


the landscape with crimson and golden light, and drawing the 
thoughts towards some more beautiful and glorious sphere beyond 
our sight; while rising in strength and grandeur, the summit of 
Ascutney Mountain, towering toward the sky and reminding us of 
that passage of Scripture which speaks of Mount Zion—a pattern 
of firm and abiding strength, to show us that the soul shall thus 
firmly stand that trusts in God; on either side of which long ranges 
of blue mountains reached far away, as if encircling the earth, and 
nearer by stood rows of trees arrayed in their bright green foliage of 
various shades, forming a delightful contrast to the sober tints be- 
yond and against their spreading branches. Who, in view of these 
rare beauties, could but unite with the Psalmist in exclaiming, “O 
Lord, how manifold are thy works! in wisdom hast thou made them 
all. The earth is full of thy riches!” She then draws a forcible 
moral contrast between two scenes presented at the village, — “the 
little vestry, brilliantly lighted, with the devoted pastor sitting 
humbly in his desk, while a few are assembling at the hour of prayer 
to seek instruction in those things which concern their highest hap- 
piness””—and “the dismal abode of the rum-seller, into which one 
and another of his victims are allured by smooth words to take the 
proffered glass and drink the poisonous draught. A light is burning 
there, but it reflects only the dark forms and visages of wretched 
worshippers at the shrine of intemperance.” 


See ee Nee hr, 
FRIENDS. 


Tue following is an affectionate tribute to her departed 
sister, probably Ellen; and if S0, written about two years 
after her sister’s death. 


We had a lovely sister, 
Once she was fair and gay ; 
But God, in his wise Providence, 
Hath taken her away. 


40 SELECTIONS FROU HER WRITINGS, 


’ 


Her earnest love and cheerful heart 
Gave light unto our home ; 

Her ardent zeal gave promise, sure, 
Of usefulness to come. 


But she has gone, we see her not; 
God saw that it was best. 

We fully trust her spirit’s now 
Rejoicing with the blest. 


_ She lingered for a few short years 
In lovely womanhood, 
And when the hour of sickness came, 
Still humbly kissed the rod. 


She was resigned to God’s high will, 
Whatever it might be; 

And calmly struggled on with pain, 
That “ good days” she might see. 


And when, her hours of suffering past, 
The watchword true was given, 

Her waiting spirit peacefully 
Was wafted home to heaven. 


The peaceful smile, reflected back 
Upon her features bright, 

Told, of a truth, that she at last 
Had reached the realms of light. 


We wait, a severed band, on earth, 
We shall not see her more, 

Till, through the mercy of our God, 
We gain the heavenly shore. 


—___.. 


On a pleasant day in June (1860), having taken “a walk 
out to the seat in the grove where Ellen” and she “used 


WORE NOTICE SRO IAL SAME, Al 


often to sit during the warm weather” of the previous 
season, she adds :— 


The scene was all familiar, 
Save the loved form I missed, 
That once was wontsto share with me 
This pleasant resting-place. 


We miss her oft; she will not come 
Again to earth’s green bowers ; 
Her holy, happy, heavenly home 
Is far removed from ours. 


Oh, that my heart were all prepared 
To follow in that holy way 

Which He, who guided her, directs 
Unto Eternal Day. 


As a family souvenir of tender interest rather than for 
its literary merits, we subjoin 


MY MOTHER'S PRAYER. 


[Composed the evening before C.’s marriage, Sabbath eve., Sept. 19. It must be remem- 
bered, therefore, that this was one of her ear/iest poetical pieces. ] 


The sky was clear, the stars shone bright, 
The moon in her beauty was drest ; 

We had laid our garments aside once more 
To retire for the night to rest. 


: I heard a sound from a distant room, 
Where my mother and sister were: 
I listened, and felt it to be the voice 
Of my mother raised in prayer, 


42 


SELECTIONS FROM HER WRITINGS, 


Pleading with God for his blessings rare 
On her precious one to send, — 

As she soon would leave her mother’s care, 
That God would be her Friend. — 


Will she e’er forget — when she leaves that home 
Where so oft she has heard before . 

The voice of that mother, so earnest and sweet, 
As she poured forth her soul in prayer? 


Ah, no! Methinks when far away 
From the home of her childhood’s hour 
Will come to her mind, so silent and still, 
The voice of that mother’s last prayer. 


Are our dear ones all among us, 
Are we all together here, — 
Father, mother, sisters, brothers, 
Round the fireside gathered near ? 


Do we miss no absent loved one, 
Do we miss no gentle tread, 
Gladsome features, joyous greeting ? 
Are there none now with the dead ? 


Where are they who once went with us, 
Walking in the shady grove? 

Where are they who once dwelt with us, 
And to bless us fondly strove ? 


With the Saviour now rejoicing, 
Who the same path once hath trod, 

There they now are sweetly singing, 
“Glory to the Lamb of God.” 


TuuRspDAY, Jan. 2, 1862. 


WITH NOTICES OF THE SAME. 43 


Many of her best effusions are found in her portfolio, on 
cards, envelopes, and scraps of waste paper, which might 
attract the least attention, — an emblem of her modest and ~ 
retiring disposition. Instance the following : — 


Shall we meet once more together, 
While our home is here below ? 

Meet again to love each other, 
And each other’s sorrows know? 


It would be a mutual comfort 

Fraught with pleasure pure and true, 
Side by side to sit together, 

While the past comes in review. 


Ah ! this question none can answer 
Save the One who guides our way ; 

But whate’er of good we’re needing, 
He will surely grant one day. 





“ Loved ones return with cheerful heart.’? 


A QUERY. 


Do there then wait around my bed, 
Spirits of those who’re with the dead ? 
Do they from every ill preserve 

Those who desire their Lord to serve? 


Do they attend their steps by day, 

To keep them in the living way? 

Do they “ bear up” each “little one,” 
Lest he be dashed against a stone? 


Do angels keep us in their hand, 
As ever they around us stand, 
And minister God’s mercy free 
To humble mortals such as we? 


44 


JAN. 28, 1863. 


SELECTIONS FROM HER WRITINGS, 


Oh, let them come into my heart, 
And, of Thy wisdom, much impart ; 
Keep me from error’s barren way, 
And help me to improve life’s day. 


—_—— 


In the following scrap, her thoughts were transferred 
from her little playmates passed away to others still living, 
whom she includes with herself in the solemn questions 


asked. 


Sacred to memory, 
Those little playmates, three, 
Where are they now? 
Gladly I’d love to see 
Those who were once with me, 
Playmates of old, 
Just as they used to be; 
Yet this were vanity 
Beyond my reach ! 
Now, in the realms of thought, 
Fondly for you I’ve sought, 
Loved ones of old. 
Come, let #s take the hand. 
While we together stand, 
What shall we say ? 
Passions of early days 
Have we o’ercome? 
Have we, in riper youth, 
Wiser become ? 
Have we forsaken now 
Folly and sin? 
High let us fix our aims, 
Usefully live. 
Have we our stubborn hearts 
Yielded to Him 


WITH NOTIGES, OF THE SAVE, A5 


Who did from heaven depart, — 
Died for our sins ? 

We must all meet again, 
When life is o’er: 

Shall we, made clean from sin, 
Part nevermore? 


The following lines were probably written in view of 
her being assisted by her brothers to take the walk alluded 
to. The heading is simply, 


MALKED TO THE GARDEN FENCE, OCT. 12. 


Brothers, though we stand or fall 
By the strength we each possess ; 
Yet it is God-given, all; 
He upholdeth us. 


Still, while many ills betide, 
Let us bravely stand abreast ; 
We can make life smoothly glide 
Till our final rest. 


Let us stand together, firm, 

Through the present earnest strife, 
Leaning on each other’s arm, 

To the close of life. 


—— 


She seems to have written these lines in the “remem- 
brance” of a visit with friends living near the city. 


On a still, delightful evening, 
When the day had passed away, 

And the moon her beams was shedding 
O’er the earth in white array ; 


46 


SELECTIONS FROM HER WRITINGS, 


All without was hushed and silent; 
For mankind, relieved from toil, 

Sought for pleasant entertainment, 
Free from busy life’s turmoil. 


To the city whose life-pulses 
Fluttered swiftly, — as their choice 

Some repaired to gain instruction 
From the gifted speaker’s voice. 


At the pleasant home suburban, 

Where a few friends, welcomed there, 
Were enjoying, for a season, 

Home delights —a goodly share ; 


In the neatly-ordered parlor 
From whose windows could be seen 
Glimpses of the works of Nature, — 
Fair and beauteous evergreens ; 


Music’s clear and pleasing strain 
Floated on the evening air, 

Soothing with its sweet refrain 
As it fell upon the ear. 


We shall ever carry with us 
Kind remembrance of that scene. 
May we so employ our talents ; 
That we all may meet again. 


When our day of life is ended, 
Mingling on the heavenly shore, 
May our songs of praise be blended 
Round the Throne forevermore ! 


WITH NOTICES OF THE SAME. 47 


re Cr hONgei bbe 
PERSONAL EXPERIENCE. 


THIS poem is inserted, not so much for its intrinsic 
merits as a poetical composition, but because it details her 
own experience, as suffering affliction, and being thereby 
led to cherish new hopes, desires, and aspirations. 


The morning broke all bright and fair, 
The sunlight falling on the trees, 
Which with new brightness did appear, 
Their foliage waving in the breeze. 
Methinks new light flashed on the heart, 
Of one who, on this holy morn, 
Looked forth upon the scene without, — 


A new life seemed on her to dawn. 


Afflicted in life’s early morn, 

Checked by a Father’s chastening hand 
In youthful vigor, and withdrawn 

From those with whom she used to stand ; 


Through years of trial called to pass, 
Mingled with mercies though they were, 
E’en in those hours that fleeted fast, 
She learned, in truth, the worth of prayer. 


She learned to bear with patience, then, 
The chastening which was for her good ; 
And of the love of Jesus, even, 
Taught by the blessed grace of God. 


vite SELECTIONS FROM HER WRITINGS, 


But now those hours of trial past, 
A way to be restored made plain, 

The means employed, the blessing grasped, 
A blessing sent from God again, — 


What cause for gratitude and joy! 

O God! help us thy praise to tell ; 
And all our talents to employ 

Through all our life to serve thee well. 


In the midst of four pages of blank verse, dated Feb. 
22, 1865, deploring her failure to be useful, but aspiring 
heavenwards, are found these devout expressions : — 


My heavenly Father, 
If it please thee, let me live! 
Renew thy loving kindness 
As in times gone by, 
And give me grace and strength to prove 
My heart’s desire and aim to be 
T’ improve my talents and to honor thee, 
While life doth last. 
And when at last thou call’st me home, 
When thou dost see my work is done, 
Shall I not yield at once to thee 
My willing spirit ? 
Keep us, dear Father, from the evil, 
And permit us not to wander 
From thy way. Give us delight, 
Chiefly in thee, and draw us 
With our dear ones, steadily, 
On towards that blest abode, 
That peaceful realm, called Heaven. 


WITH NOTICES OF THE SAMEzL. 


Oh, where’s the cross I’ve taken, 
Where can it e’er be seen ? 
O. Father, wilt thou help.me 
To take it up again, 
And try to bear it better 
Than ever I have done! 
That, when this life is over, 
I wear a brighter crown. 


Oh, may I e’er remember 
How Christ has died for me, 
And how he ever suffered, 
That happy we might be.’ 
If we’d have faith in Jesus, 
And give our hearts to him, 
With his own blood he’d save us 
From all the power of sin. 





(NIGHT) REST. 


I am weary, oh, yes, weary ! 
But the night is coming on; 
Soon Ill close my eyes in slumber, 
And lie down my couch upon. 


Nature is all hushed in silence, 
As if waiting for her rest, 

And the sun withdraws his brightness, 
Such as doth surround the blest. 


God is looking down from heaven 
On his handiwork so vast. 

There is naught he doth not nourish 
And sustain from first to last. 


Is there aught that gives him pleasure 


Save these ‘‘ works,” that mutely stand 


To proclaim His power and goodness 
Throughout all the beauteous land ? 


49 


SELECTIONS FROM HER WRITINGS, 


Ah! this bright and wondrous verdure, 
Clothing every vale and hill ; 
Singing birds and brute creation 
Only, add his will fulfil. 


Man, O foolish man, and sinful! 

Doth from morn till night transgress ; 
Disregards his God and Maker, 

All his work and holiness. 


Though he finds in Christ a “ refuge,” 
And a pardon for his sins, 

Yet the whole “earth groans together 
From the moment life begins. 


oP) 


See! the day is fast declining, 
And the sun withdraws his light, 

But the moon is sweetly shedding 
Her mild beams on us to-night. 


I am weary, oh, so weary! 
For the struggle’s hard with sin, 
With temptation and with trials, 
For I fain a heaven would win. 


I am weary of this striving, 
I would lay me down to rest 

With the bright and star-like blossom 
Springing o’er my silent breast. 


Oh, receive me, blessed Saviour, 
To thy presence and thy care, — 

To those bright and heavenly “mansions ” 
Which for thine thou didst prepare. 


There no sun and moon are needed, 
There no weariness shall come; 
We shall rest fore’er with Jesus, 
Be forever safe at home. 
Jury 16, 1867. 


WITH NOTICES OF THE SAME. 51 


SO JE EO Nucl 
DESIRES AND EFFORTS TO DO GOOD. 


To lead others to the Saviour, to exert some influence 
which might result in the salvation of souls, was the great 
desire of her heart, after the lessons of her affliction had 
been learned ; but secluded as she was, by her lameness, 
from the busy walks of life, and having therefore fewer 
opportunities to converse with her fellow-mortals upon the 
all-important theme, she used to address them in writing, 
very earnestly and directly, as the following specimens, 
four in number, two in prose and two in verse, will indi- 
ca.e: — 


We were greatly disappointed at not seeing you with Mr. and 
Mrs. , and regret the circumstances which prevented your com- 
ing, but hope you will be spared from further trial and perplexity on 
account of worldly prospects, be guided in the path of wisdom, and 
be prospered in all needful business transactions. 

But please excuse the liberty I have taken to address you upon a 
subject which seems to me to be of the deepest interest and of the 
highest importance to every one, and to none more than yourself. It 
is my earnest prayer that you may be led, by the Spirit of God, to 
attend to the interests of your immortal nature, the salvation of your 
never-dying soul, a¢ once. Let me most affectionately and earnestly 
commend to you the “ Friend of sinners,” the blessed Saviour, who 
“sticketh closer than a brother,” who will be your comforter and 
guardian in every hour of need, and to whom you may go with all 
your trials and burdens, assured that he will bear them for you, since 
“he careth for you” according to God’s holy Word. 

Herewith I send a little book, which I venture to hope may be a 
means of showing you the way to that state of blessedness of which 





52 SELECTIONS FROM HER WRITINGS, 


there is no end, and to which no enjoyment of worldly pleasure can 
be compared. é 


SATURDAY, Aug. 13, 1864. 





I thank you for the collar. I remember‘and love you still—the ~ 
companion of my early days. We may never meet again. O An- 
gelia! I want you should give your heart to the Saviour; repent 
before him of all your sins, and become a “little child” of his, 
that you may “ be an angel, and with the angels stand.” He says, 
“Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will 
give you rest.” Matt. 11:28. Listen to the “still small voice.” 
Though T was taken from among you, and early stricken, yet, for all 
this, I am happy, and try to praise my Heavenly Father, knowing 
that “ He doeth all things well.” 





Kind sir, thou art a stranger, 
And this we know full well, 
But listen for a season 
While we, in kindness, tell 
As to a fellow-traveller 
O’er life’s precarious way, 
As we journey on together 
Through the long and weary day, 
In words of simple earnestness, 
Of a high and holy Friend; 
Of a world where all is happiness, 
And a life that ne’er shall end. 
We aré sinful in our nature, 
And this we all must know; 
And are subject to much danger 
While we tarry here below. 
We are helpless, weak, and feeble, 
And subject to decay ; 
And this frail, mortal ‘“ temple” 
Knows naught but of “to-day.” 


WITH NOTICES OF THE SAME. 53 


Having told, in this simple style, the “story of the 
cross,’ she concludes :— 


But let us ask thee, humbly, 
In our blest Saviour’s name, 
If ¢hou hast fully yielded 
Thy heart unto the same? 
For this we know, we soon shall part ; 
But we wou/d meet again 
In that blest happy land 
Where Christ shall ever reign. 
And where his friends and kindred, 
Upon that heavenly shore, 
In holiness assembled, 


Shall separate no more. 
Derry, Dec. 75, 1863. 





TO A FRIEND ON THANKSGIVING DAY. 


Perchance thou mayst be lonely, 
As thou hast been before 

In years agone, as ¢hou hast said 
f would that thou wert here. 


Methinks I see thee passing 
Around thy accustomed “ beat,” 

While scarcely any wakeful sounds 
Thy musing senses greet. 


Thou mayst be wandering afar 
In Memory’s sweet domain, 

To view again those pleasures past, 
Which may ot be again. 


Oh, give the Lord thy heart! 
For this I long have prayed ; 

Then shalt thou have that “anchor” sure 
On which thy soul is stayed ; 


54 SELECTIONS FROM HER WRITINGS, 


And ever it shall yield to thee 
A consolation sweet, 

And thou shalt many blessings see, 
And for blest heaven be meet. 


Would I could speak to thee, 
To tell of Jesus’ love ; 

I would that thou shouldst know it, too, 
And rest at last above. 


To-day our joys would be increased, 
Couldst thou our pleasures share; 
- But for thy highest good, fore’er, 
Well raise our humble prayer. 


NOVEMBER 24, 1864. 


5 EsC ETON ave 
NATURE — DIFFERENT SEASONS. 


How grateful to the heart of the snow-bound invalid, shut in from © 
the outside busy world for a season, and anxiously waiting for the 
pleasant summer days, when at last the icy bonds of winter are 
broken, and the stern and stormy monarch steals quietly away before 
the warm sunshine and genial atmosphere of spring! 


A pleasant prose description of the sights and sounds of 
spring is then succeeded by the following lines :— 
Surely now the chilly autumn, 
And the dreary winter’s blast, 
Though they lingered for a season, 
Have departed hence at last. 


WITH NOTICES OF THE SAME. 55 


For the swelling buds and verdure 
Neath the mild and sunny sky, 
Singing birds and murmuring waters, 

Tell us summer days are nigh. 


A.l the earth puts forth new vigor, 
Life is earnest everywhere. 

Hath not God prepared new pleasures ? 
Shall not we the blessing share ? 


-~ Who can hinder, when God wills it 
That the shadows flee away, 
And the weary, waiting spirit 
Glory in a brighter day ! 


Blessed be tlry name, O Father! 
Thou hast given us hope this day ; 

Soon for us the darkened shadows 
Shall forever flee away. 


To which are immediately appended, under date of May 
PEL OO”: 


O’er the hills dark mists are hanging, 
All looks dreary and forlorn ; 

None would think the sun was shining 
Up above the cloud and storm. 


Yet the merry brook is murmuring, 
And the green grass growing nigh, 

And the farmer ploughs the furrows, 
Heeding not the frowning sky. 


All the earth is bright with promise 
Of much good that is to come, — 
Fruitful fields and verdant meadows ; 
Yet there ’s hard work to be done. 


56 SELECTIONS FROM HER WRITINGS, 


Though we ’ve waited and looked forward 
To these pleasant days so long ; 

They have come, and there’s no doubting, 
With bright smiles and cheerful song. 


Is there one whose heart is weary,* 
And whose faith is sorely tried ? 
Father, let this simple lesson 
To his spirit be applied. 


Has he not long sought thy blessing ? 
Art thou not now waiting near 

To bestow a great refreshing 
On thy needy people here ? 


Heavenly Father, we will trust thee, 
For thy promises are sure 

Thou hast said that thou wilt answer 
All thy trusting children’s prayer. 





SHOWERS AND SUNSHINE, 


Succeeding days have come and gone, 
And still the clouds are sweeping on ; 
Thick clouds are darkly spread aloft, - 
While showers of rain are falling oft 
Our hopes are raised each coming day 
At sight of sunshine’s fitful ray, 

But soon, alas! they blighted are, 
For darkness gathers near and far, 
Veiling the brightness all in gloom ; 
And yet we watch and wait, for soon 
The clouds will break again, we know, 
And clothe the earth in sun’s bright glow. 


* Perhaps an allusion to her pastor. 


WITH NOTICES OF THE SAME. 57 


The farmer’s heart is downcast now, 

For ’tis the time to plant and sow. 

He sees the spring-days come and go, 
And showers of rain profusely flow, 

Yet scarce can sow his fields, ’t would seem, 
So little sunshine flits between. 

Yet well we know, we need not fear, 

For He, who rules all things, is near ; 
His works declare it, and his Word 

Sure hope and comfort doth afford. 

Nor clouds nor showers will long prevail, 
“‘Seed-time and harvest shall not fail.” 


Ge ees 


She often welcomed the birds, her favorites, in warbling 
strains. Witness the following : — 


Sweet little birdies, 
Bright heralds of spring, 
Gladly we welcome you, 
For good news you bring. 


Long have ye tarried 

Through stern winter’s reign ; 
Welcome, thrice welcome, 

To your old haunts again. 


Come with your sweet notes 
Resounding on high, 

Yield back to your Maker 
Soft praise through the sky. 


Teach us a lesson, 
As onward ye glide, 
Making sweet melody 
O’er life’s pleasant tide. 


* 


58 SELECTIONS FROM HER WRITINGS, 


Teach us, as we toil, 
And travel life’s way, 

To be ever cheerful, 
And praise God alway. 


Let us together, 

Through summer’s bright days, 
Cheerfully render 

To God our full praise. 





“The Excursion” is the name of one of her longest 
poems, extending over twenty-five pages of note paper, 
in which a pleasing description of a day’s ride to Wind- 
sor, Vt., with a visit to the State’s Prison and other places | 
of interest, is given in measured lines, four of which, in 
each stanza, are made to rhyme. “Finished Oct. 8, 1867.” 
Scene probably laid the previous summer. 

The whole poem would prove of interest to the reader, 
but only a few specimen stanzas can be given :— 


Refreshed with "grateful rest, 
At early dawn 
In humble prayer our hearts 
Are upward drawn, 
Seeking our Father’s guiding care, 
While we, in weakness, now prepare 
To take this wished-for ride. 


The earth is scarcely free 
From night’s chill thrall ; 

Deep mist upon the river lies 
F’en like a pall. 

The dewdrops glisten in the sun, 

As swiftly down his bright beams run, 
And peaceful is the scene. 


WITH NOTICES OF THE SAME. 59 


Her brother seems to have piloted the excursion, hence 
this allusion in the opening stanza :— 


The haying time at last 
Is passed away, 
And now the weary farmer 
May have a holiday, — 
Rest from the earnest, hard-wrought toil, 
Whereby God hath appointed all 
To eat their daily bread. 


Her sister and infant child are also of the party. After 
starting upon the ride, — 


The little one is now 
Happy and free, 

Prattling her grateful joy 
So merrily. 

She is the sunbeam ever near, 

The heavenly light our hearts to cheer, — 
The little guileless one! 


Her desires to do good, spzritually, are apparent amid 
her free and sportive descriptions of natural scenery, and 
of the ¢emporal surroundings of men and things with 
whom she is thrown in contacts Hence, at the State’s 
Prison, — 

Our fellow-man we see, 
With face so sad 
And sorrowful, in truth, 
’T would make us glad 
To offer comfort to his heart ; 
To tell him of the “better part ” 
Prepared for burdened souls. 


SELECTIONS FROM HER WRITINGS, 


One favor we alone 
Can be allowed ; 
We may not speak in word, 
But, blest be God, 
Obtaining leave, we quick extend 
A tract into the proffered hand, 
And turn our steps away. 


God bless him! and the way 
Of life unfold 
To his sin-burdened soul, 
Nor aught withhold 
Of His enlightening grace from him, 
To comfort and to cleanse from sin, 
And fit him ere for heaven. 





AUTUMN LEAVES, ; 


See! the Autumn leaves are falling 
With a quiet, noiseless bound. 

Are they not to mortals calling, 
As they, withered, reach the ground ? 


They have decked the distant hill-side, 
God hath formed and nourished them, 
And they ’ve spread his praises world-wide, 

Hanging on their slender stem. 


As they now approached completion, 
All their worth was brought to view ; 
Beauty, in its rich perfection, 
They were clothed in gorgeous hue. 


They are borne unto their places 
By the wind’s oft-swelling tide ; 

Humbly bowing their fair faces 
On earth’s bosom, side by side. 


WITH NOTICES OF THE SAME, 61 


Fellow-mortals, we are falling ; 
We do all fade as a leaf. 
. Let us heed this solemn warning, 
And from death seek some relief. 


Let us strive, while yet we linger 
On our life’s uncertain stem, 

To accomplish for our Maker 
All his wise and good design. 


That our life be ever useful, 
And his praises oft resound ; 
That we may reflect his glory 
Ere we’re laid beneath the ground. 


ete tee ON i.ViL. 
THE NATION. 


From several national pieces, as they might be termed, 
we select the following : — 


Our Nation strong and fair 

Needeth high Heaven’s care 
In love at length. 

Loud let our voices rise, 

Lift up our anxious eyes 

With faith unto the skies, 
To God our strength. 


Our Father, who art nigh 
To hear the poor that cry, 
Bow down thine ear. 


Nov. 4. 


SELECTIONS FROM HER WRITINGS, 


Reach down thine arm of might, 

Bid error take its flight, 

Send forth thy truth and light, 
Be ever near. . 


May our beloved land 
Mid heavenly blessings stand, — 
A land of rest. 
Here let Christ’s kingdom come, 
Here let thy will be done, 
Thy love fill every home, 
And all be blest. 





WRITTEN FOR THE SOLDIER. 


God is looking from high heaven ; 
He beholds this earnest strife, 

He can stay the bloody warfare, 
He can stay this flow of life. 


He it is must give the blessing ; 
Then let all look unto Him 

While the battle is progressing, 
We shall gain the victory then. 


Fear not, for the Lord is near you, 
He will shield you from all harm. 


Do your duty fully, boldly, 


Trusting in his holy arm. 


When the storm has ceased its raging, 
When the fearful strife is o’er, 

Praise God for his timely blessing, 
He will bless you yet the more. 


WITH NOTICES OF THE SAME. — 63 


Scale uGiNe- Vi IT 


MISCELLANEOUS, 


Tue three following, from a piece of six stanzas, convey 
a true sentiment, and tell us where to find “True Worth.” 


True worth shines brightest often 
Mid the humble middle class, 

Where people all are sensible, 
And go not with the mass ; 


Who deign to labor willingly, 
Delighting thus to live 

By calling into action 
The powers God doth give. 


Ah! these are they in whom we find 
True worth, — the goodly few ; 
These are the loved and loving ones, 

These are the tried and true. 





Her longest poem, consisting of forty-seven stanzas, of 
eight lines each, might be styled the “ Words of Jesus,” 
many of his teachings, as related in the New Testament 
being put into rhyme, of which these two may be taken as’ 
a fair specimen : — | 


“ Think not that I to earth am come 

To send,” at first, “ peace” to each home, 
But rather to pierce every heart, 

That I a¢ length grace may impart. 


64 SELECTIONS FROM HER WRITINGS, 


Not in your vileness are ye meet 

To walk at will the “ golden street.” 

For this cause I from heaven came down, 
That ye might righteousness put on. 


“¢ Ask, and ye shall receive” that good, 
Beloved friends, the heavenly food ; 

“¢ Seek” earnestly, “and ye shall find” 
That priceless treasure in the mind; 

“ Knock” at the door of heaven by prayer, 
“It shall be opened to you”’ there; | 
Light shall beam forth into your heart, 
The blood-bought gift God will impart. 


The latest day is waning, the Sabbath draweth nigh, 
Another sun’s declining far in the western sky ; 

The birds are sweetly singing their evening praise at will, 
Another week is dying, and earth is hushed and still. 


Our Heavenly Father, hear us, subdue our stubborn will, 
~ Behold our feeble nature, and bid our hearts be still. 

Oh, lift our spirits higher, and bid our wanderings cease ; 

Oh, give us holy pleasure, and let it all be peace. 


And when the Sabbath dawneth, let sacred thoughts arise, 
That we may humbly worship our Father in the skies ; 
And may thy Holy Spirit dwell with us through the day, 
And let a light from heaven dawn on our souls, we pray. 


SaTurDAY EVENING, June 28, 1862. 


These untitled lines may prove of practical advantage 
to some readers :— 


WITH NOTICES OF THE SAME. 


Do not yield to angry passion, 
Strive at once to overcome ; 
See within your heart its fashion, 
And depose it from its throne. 


When you feel sin rising upward, 
When you ken a wicked thought, 


Say “Depart!” and “ Get thee” outward, 


I will fight thee as I ought. 


- Suffer not thy mouth to open 
To the wicked spirit’s call ; 
Crush it out before it’s spoken, 
“Watch !” and labor lest thou fall. 


Heaven will aid exertion truly ; 

Thou mayst know the promise given, 
“ He that overcometh,” fully, 

Hath a hope of yon bright heaven. 


LEARNING OF JESUS. 


’T is sweet to learn of Jesus, 
Though it be through trials sore ; 
They grieve our hearts and leave us, 

While Ze doth peace restore. 


’T is good to learn of Jesus, 
To “labor and to wait,” 

For he will never leave us 
In any trying strait. 


When, our hearts so full of ardor, 
We fondly seek the prize, 

The object of our labor 
He for a time denies. 


65 


66. 


SELECTIONS FROM HER WRITINGS. 


He disappoints our wishes, 

And “tries” our ‘‘ faith” the while, 
But gives the greater riches 

Of his benignant smile. 


In his own time he, surely, 

Will grant the blessing sought, 
If we continue, fully, 

To trust him as we ought. 


Go thou, O man! and from these wonders learn 
A useful lesson. To thy Saviour quickly turn, 
That through the assistance of his grace, 

Thou mayst be fitted to fill well thy place 

In life’s great drama. Be not thou alone, 

Of all God’s creatures, useless and undone. 
Strive ever, wheresoe’er thou art, 

To fulfil thy mission and:act well thy part. 

Labor thou and pray for thy great Master, 

‘* And watch for souls ” throughout life’s earnest day, 
That when this life is over, and thy work is done, 
Thou mayst be taken by the Holy One 

Up to those heavenly “mansions,” there to rest 
“ Forever with the Lord” and all the blest, - 




















THE GETTY CENTER 
LIBRARY 





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